Uncategorized - Discoveries & Lessons in a Ghetto Town

Early life experiences influenced me greatly by structuring a theme to the world that I felt and enjoyed. Many of these vignettes are
but patina on the polished bowl of life that a grownup might remember and relate. The influence is often subtle and miniscule and, perhaps, only incidental but, together, these stimuli guide us, each and every one of us, toward a picture of the world, a worldview or, as our German friends and colleagues might say, a Weltanschauung.

In the comments listed below, you will find some of these daily encounters, moments of success and elements of wonder that formed some of my own personal background. Together they form a picture of safety, merriment, satisfaction, inquiry, etc. Perhaps, they
will help throw some light on those related events that shaped you and your life.

The Neighborhood of Saint-Louis de France Church

When I was six years old in 1945, my family moved from one part of Centraville (Barker Street) in Lowell, MA to about one mile further away from the center of town. This three family clapboard structure
or tenement located in a working-class, French-Canadian neighborhood would be my home for some ~ 16 years until I was ready for the adventures of the Physics Department at the Pennsylvania State University.
These challenging and evocative years (1945 to 1961) served as the formative framework that created a young man having certain skills,
many preferences and apprehensions and quite a few doubts, uncertainties, fears and questions.

The immediate families surrounding the Bolduc household back then were named: Valois, Lussier, Beauparlant, Roberts, Bergeron, Roussel, Antifenario (Italian), Beaudry, Pinard, etc. Sure, there were two
Greek families living in the house next door. Also, Harry ran the local variety store and his young, Jewish family lived across the street from us. These were the accepted foreigners in the otherwise
common ancestral backgrounds. The “lingua franca” was a heavy Quebecois interwoven with an accented English of the tough, Lowell flavor.
There were children everywhere and they came in all age groups. We played street baseball and climbed all the best trees around. The best tree choices were the maple and chestnut candidates in our yard. Bringing down horse chestnuts with sticks and stones in late summer and early autumn was a favorite treat that only the most uninspired and/or saintly child was expected to forego. Sure, windows were broken but if God wanted windows to stay intact, H

e would have made glass more resistant to sticks and stones hurled with enthusiasm.

Street Games, a Successful Businessman and Haute Couture of the Period

Playing in the street was really not dangerous back then since there were few cars around immediately after the war and during the Korean conflict. Ordinary people walked, used the bus and took cabs. The fortunate rich types drove their own cars and really stood out as
living success stories. My own grandfather, the successful milkman of North End Dairy, proudly wheeled around in a new Desoto after our victory in Europe. Photos taken during this period show him standing with distinction in front of this vehicle, prize and a
proof that capitalism beats fascism hands down. This was the amiable and, sometimes, gruff Monsieur Paul Charbonneau with a kind heart and a lust for life seldom seen today in these new times of prosperity. Perhaps, life was just simpler and less stressful in the late 1940s?

In contrast, poverty was a respected and much admired way of life
for many people on Ludlam and Dana streets and things were not that much more fancy on Aiken Avenue or Cumberland Road. There was a certain “je ne sais quoi” chic about this proletarian couture with
its mismatched articles of clothing that made the drabness of a
well-selected matching outfit from McQuades or Newmans seem strangely inappropriate in the neighborhood! Hand-me-down clothing was really
the rage for the in-group. The shirts that Uncle Frank Massey gave me were in excellent condition but very much too large for my frame at the time. A shirt with a 16 and ½ inch collar worn by a boy with
a 14-inch neck stands out as casual dress.

My First and only Bicycle

At the age of 12, the entrepreneurial spirit took hold of me. The
call of the newspaper boy’s life became a vocation, of sorts. Naturally, I looked beyond the immediate financial rewards and the worldly recognition allotted to these boys to a time when I, too, might
drive a Desoto or even a new Kaiser Fraser automobile on a Sunday drive and venture to Lakeview and Nick’s Happy Hour. The bicycle
bought from my cousin Arthur Bolduc for about $12.00 would be my start on this road to success.

This same bicycle stayed with me through my early years at Lowell Tech much after I stopped using it but it afforded me transportation to Kearney Square to pay the Lowell Sun its modest revenue and, on the way back, to make a stop at the main Lowell library for books on Jefferson, the Wild West, Lincoln, a British WWII character called

Biggles, Kit Carson, Davy Crocket and the magic of mathematics.
This was the same bike that I took for my periodic travels to the
farmlands of Dracut to enjoy a day with George Bourbeau, Roger St-Amand and cousin, Richard. How does a young man in 1953 learn the ropes
and travel the Sacred Highways of Life without a bicycle? It could not have been otherwise!

Politics, Jobs and the Standard of Living

Truman, Eisenhower and Kennedy had worn the Presidential mantle. Senator McCarthy and some neo-fascist assistants had been discredited and shamed. The conflict in Korea was over. Who won in that case?
The Hungarian Revolution had shown the world how a post-Stalinist Russia would deal with emerging concepts of home rule. We were testing thermonuclear weapons in Nevada and in the Pacific and the Soviets
were making great progress with their own weapons. There was radioactive fallout in our air and some of our milk. Sputnik was “beeping” overhead since 1959 (?) and the US had its Strategic Air Command on constant
alert for delivering megatons of retribution on Soviet cities. In
a sense, Americans were all on edge and uncertain about tomorrow.
In a very real sense, however, it was exciting. We learned how to
“duck and cover” from government TV announcements. People were building nuclear fallout shelters in their backyards and storing a reserve
of food, matches, water, and other supplies in case the worst did happen. Some were arming themselves thinking that neighbors, who had not prepared for this unpleasant moment, would want to suddenly share the accommodations.

Movies, Early Television and Entertainment

Ed Sullivan was bringing us Sunday night entertainment. Milton Berle was comforting us with the Tuesday night Texaco frolics. Steve Allen made us laugh on his evening show. Was it called The Tonight Show then? Elvis Presley went about the country gyrating his hips and singing “Hound Dog” and “Heartbreak Hotel” songs. Every Hollywood flick made in the 1930s and early 1940s was shown again and again
on TV. “Our Gang”, Don Winslow of the Navy and Shirley Temple taught us American ideals and values. Howdy Doody, Hop-along Cassidy, Gene Autry and Roy Rogers were the guiding lights of the period. When
“evil lurked in the minds of men” the Shadow knew and justice was soon to follow.

Relatives and more Relatives

The late Forties are a blur for this boy. In those years, family
members from Quebec would still drop in unannounced after a 400-mile trek from lower Quebec and through Vermont, New Hampshire and parts

of Massachusetts. It was “la visite du Quebec” and I recall a distant cousin, Rolande, who was there with her boy friend or husband. She was very beautiful and filled with life. I also recall a young boy
of about my age, another cousin, I imagine, who taught me how to say quiver and arrows in French. Of course, I knew the word for “arrow” but the word for “quiver” was new to me. Naturally, there were several uncles and aunts who seemed incredibly ancient to an 8-year old kid. Counting all the relatives both local and from Canada, there may have been as many as 20 to 25 people enjoying this visit.

It seems that there were always relatives around from different clans. Canadian French family names like: Ouellette, Charbonneau, Bolduc, Clermont made up the moment and the drinking celebration of the day! Beer and hard liquor were not unknown to these people
nor were large meals catered by my mother with some cleanup assistance from Lida, Florence and, perhaps, Aunt Vick or Cousin Claire after
the repast. ”La Vie en Rose” was sung by Aunt Florence, someone (my Dad or Mom) played the piano and others, men mostly, debated the true merits of Ted Williams batting with men on base, the sad Red Sox showing last year, Truman’s complete lack of competence
as President and the ever increasing cost of living with no increase in wages.

A Trip to Fenway Park with Brother Bob and Dad

TBD soon

Michelle is born and a Confrontation occurs

TBD soon

A Father’s Brief Life

TBD soon

Here comes Denise, AKA, Gunga Din

TBD soon

And much more!!

TBD soon